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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23013880">Tiny Hands</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose'>GemmaRose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hot-Splicing, Rebellions, and Multiverse Shenanigans [44]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Body Horror, Gen, Infection, Transformation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:09:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,213</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23013880</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>With Brainstorm and Whirl both off with Rodimus looking for a faster way to Cyberutopia, Perceptor has been left in charge of Whirl's sparkling.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sparkling(s) &amp; Whirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hot-Splicing, Rebellions, and Multiverse Shenanigans [44]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1524353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tiny Hands</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>me, writing an au of an au? it's more likely than you think. in this iteration, Getaway and Atomizer asked Junior about the mutiny and she said yeah she wants Megatron off the ship, because he scares her.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cyberutopia wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Perceptor hadn’t had high hopes in the first place, but the planet they now orbited lacked what he and Junior had both been hoping most to find. Their renegade Captain and his friends, including Junior’s caretaker and his... lab partner? Friend? Ever since what Swerve had dubbed the Timecase Incident, he’d been forced to re-evaluate his opinion of his fellow scientist. The results, as they stood, were inconclusive, and likely would remain so until Rodimus arrived with Brainstorm and the rest.</p><p>“Uncle Percy?” Junior’s voice, small and thin, broke his concentration. Well, it wasn’t like he’d been focusing on the data Getaway wanted him to analyse in the first place.</p><p>“Yes?” he asked, turning to face her. She’d climbed up onto Brainstorm’s lab bench again, ostensibly to be closer to his height, but somehow she only looked even smaller, shoulders slumped and optics dim.</p><p>“I don’t feel good.” she admitted, as if that was any kind of news. The little femme had been radiating anxiety ever since Whirl had asked him to be her teacher, to keep her safe aboard the Lost Light while Rodimus dragged him and Brainstorm off to see if they could find a faster way to Cyberutopia.</p><p>“What kind of not good?” he asked anyways, because it never hurt to check. Brainstorm would’ve called it modelling good scientific behaviour.</p><p>“My vents hurt.” she pressed a hand to her side with a grimace. That... certainly <i>could</i> be caused by anxiety, but it could also be the first warning sign of an infection. Whirl would quite literally rip his helm off if he thought Perceptor to blame for any illness his sparkling suffered in his absence.</p><p>“Would you like to go to Medbay?” he asked, and Junior nodded, lifting her arms in a silent request to be lifted down from the workbench. Perceptor lowered her to the floor, and his spark twisted in its casing as her hand wrapped tight around two of his fingers. Sure Junior was technically full-grown now, but she was still so <i>young</i>. It seemed barely yestermeg she’d been a pale, single-opticked bundle of sentio and potential staring out at the world through the glass of Whirl’s cockpit.</p><p>The corridors of the Lost Light were quiet now, at least on this level. Without the constant chaos of Brainstorm experimenting with reckless abandon, there was no reason for anyone to linger around. Not that most of the mechs who would’ve done so were still here... Perceptor shook his helm slightly, keeping his pace slow enough Junior didn’t have to jog to keep up. A small yellow alert appeared in the corner of his HUD, informing him of minor contamination in his own vent system, and Perceptor looked up at the grates in the ceiling. Had something got in the vents again? It would hardly be the first time, and if it was particulate then Junior’s smaller frame would of course start showing symptoms sooner than his own.</p><p>“Uncle Percy?” Junior’s voice wavered, her hand tightening around his fingers as they stopped in front of the lift. He looked down at her, and she pressed her free hand to her vents again. “It’s getting worse.”</p><p>“Everything will be okay.” he assured her, tapping the call button for the lift. “Do you know what sort of treatment you want, once we get to the medbay?” not a question he would normally ask, but with Ratchet gone, First Aid on Cybertron, and Velocity towed off to accompany Rodimus, medical was staffed by whoever had the most experience keeping their fellow Autobots alive in the field until a proper medic could arrive. Perceptor had installed every last one of his mods with his own two hands, whoever was playing medic today would certainly let him administer whatever was appropriate.</p><p>“Something to make it stop hurting?” Junior whined, leaning against his leg and pressing her forehelm against his hip.</p><p>“Alright, we’ll start with a pain patch.” Perceptor stroked the back of her helm the way he’d seen Whirl and Nautica do, and when the lift doors opened she walked in with him, though now that he was looking he saw a stiffness to her movements. “Is it just your vents that hurt?” he asked as the doors shut, and Junior shook her helm with a low whine, her field a sour, roiling mess of <i>confusion fear <b>pain</b></i> where it pressed against his. Whatever this was, it was serious.</p><p>“Everything will be okay.” he repeated, offlining the pain sensors in his hand as Junior’s grip tightened. He did a cursory scan of his own systems, and frowned at the results which came back to him. The low-level alert for his ventilation system was increasing in severity, several major servos and actuators were losing power, his T-cog had locked up, and the rest of the readout he would have to sit down and examine to make sense of but nothing with that much red in it could be a good sign.</p><p>“I’m scared.” Junior whimpered, coolant welling around her optics. “I want Whirl.”</p><p>“I miss them too.” Perceptor said softly, keeping his optics fixed on the lift doors. “But it’ll be okay, we’re already halfway to the medbay.” the doors opened, and Junior wobbled slightly as she followed him out into the quiet hallway. He’d barely taken three steps when several alerts popped up on his HUD at once, warning of imminent system failures and loss of structural integrity, and Junior collapsed with a choked cry, field flaring in pain and panic. Perceptor forcibly shunted the warnings of his own frame aside, perhap the most useful of all the skills he’d learnt with the Wreckers, and knelt to draw Junior back up onto her pedes. “Junior, can you hear me?” he asked, and got a shaky nod.</p><p>“It hurts.” she sobbed, leaning heavily on his arm. “Where’s Whirl?” her field flared again in distress as Perceptor gently pulled her close to his chassis. He’d hoped to avoid carrying her, she wasn’t a sparkling after all, but at the moment speed was of the essence.</p><p>“I’m going to get you to the medbay.” he promised, wrapping an arm around her chest, and she began to flail.</p><p>“No!” she screamed, her glyphs high and shrill and just as piercing as they had been when she was a sparkling. “No, let go of me! <b>Whirl!</b>” she sobbed, clawing at his arm, and as Perceptor made to rise he found his knee servos frozen. “Whirl!” Junior screeched again, her rotor vibrating against Perceptor’s chestplate. “Stormy!” her vocaliser cracked, static spilling from it as her terror and pain battered Perceptor’s field.</p><p>“It’s okay.” he tried, but the words felt empty. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” he tightened his arm around her, and Junior let out a shriek no cybertronian vocaliser should be capable of producing. Her rotor hub slammed into the middle of his chestplate, followed quickly by four sharp impacts which scraped along his reinforced armour. Junior spasmed in his arms, armour shifting and parting in ways it was never designed to, and one of her little hands found his. Perceptor felt the armour on his back begin to buckle, and offlined his optics as he returned Junior’s firm grip.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>might fuck around and write some Whirl pov of the sparkeater-drop later. spoiler, he's gonna be Very Upset about his baby getting zombified</p><p>Apologies to any not-logged-in readers, but due to an ex who refuses to leave me alone I have had to disable anon comments. Kudos are still open though, and if you want to scream (or would like me to write a fic for you) come check me out on Pillowfort! No account required to get my discord, and I'm always happy to chat. [<a href="https://www.pillowfort.social/GemmaRose">Link</a>]</p></blockquote></div></div>
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